The Unknown Tom Riddle
by MinervaFirenze
Summary: Okay, everyone, this is.... different. Original. But good! Be nice! It's by just me (Minerva) and it sorta shows Tom Riddle when he was 16, what his life was like, and the occurences that caused the downfall of Tom... and the rise of Voldemort. Enjoy! R/R


a/n: Hey everyone

**a/n: Hey everyone! Okay, this is really weird, but it just occurred to me, so read it. I'd appreciate it! It's not that bad, but it's not super-funny or anything, but I think you'll enjoy it. Haters of Voldie: don't worry, this isn't about _Voldemort_, it's about _Tom Riddle _before he was Voldie, so please, give it a chance! And also, please forgive my corny-ness.. it's a little bit cheesy during the phone call part, but no prob, right? luv y'all! REVIEW! ******

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**Chapter 1**

6:30 a.m., August 25, 1949

"Beep! Beep! Beeeeeeeep!" screamed the alarm clock obnoxiously. "Beeeeeeeeeeep!" 

16-year-old Tom Riddle rolled over, muttering, "Shut up.... alarm... work of the Devil, alarms..." and he slammed his fist down on the SNOOZE button, only to turn back around and close his eyes again. He wanted to return to his dream, it had been quite lovely... 

The door creaked open and a tiny voice made him snap awake once again: "Tom? Tommy? Are you awake?" the little girl murmured, pushing back her little dark curls and straightening her pink fuzzy nightgown for her big brother, "Tom?" 

"Huh? Wh...what, Jen?" Tom grunted.

"Please wake up, Tommy, it's almost six O'clock! If father finds you in bed.. or me, here...." 

"Yeah, okay, okay, thanks, hun-" Tom sat up, flicked on the light-switch, and rubbed his eyes as he swung his long legs out of the tiny cot. 

"Oh, and Tom?" the little girl murmured.

"Yes, Jen?" 

"Happy Birthday!" she whispered, giggling, and hurried out of the tiny room, shutting the door quietly and carefully behind her. _She's a sweet girl,_ Tom thought, _I only hope Father doesn't catch her helping me out like this- _

He shuddered, not wanting to think what might happen if he did find out. Then it hit Tom what she had said- Happy Birthday? Who's- oh! Indeed it was his Birthday, he himself had almost forgotten. He'd be willing to bet 100 pounds that little Jennifer would be the only one who'd remember that today- _No, no, _not _pounds, _he mentally corrected himself, _I've gotta start thinking in Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts, now that school's gonna be starting in a week! _

He grinned broadly, thinking about returning to school. To his many friends, and the wizarding world he needed so much... and his girlfriend, Lana. Lana! How he missed her, more than any of the others... 

He began to get dressed out of his pink bunny-wabbit PJs [**a/n: sorry about that everyone, just had to add some of Tom's true personality in there**] into some jeans and a T-shirt, as he thought about his situation. It wasn't fair that every summer he had to come be shut up in one little room of this huge house full of muggles, forced to sit and work behind closed windows, so that no one of Little Hangleton would know that he lived here... his own _father_, who had named Tom for himself, despised him so much that he couldn't let anyone of the village know Tom existed. Oh, well, Tom thought, at least he had somewhere to go over the summer. He just wished that he could at least have access to his owl, so that he could contact his friends, or even access to the phone- one his of his best friends Jack Norton lived in a muggle residence as well, then at least he could talk to one of his friends. But now he was all alone, with only little Jennifer to keep him company, and she wasn't much company because she wasn't even supposed to know that he was in the house, for fear she would tell the rest of the town. So even his friendship with his little sister had to be kept secret, and so so he had nothing, and no one. He quickly ran a brush though his long-ish dark hair, and scrambled out of the room to report to his father. 

Mr. Thomas Riddle sat up in bed, staring at the clock. 6:33 a.m. How dare his son be late! He admitted to himself that he was glad his son wasn't always punctual like he sometimes hoped, because even now, he couldn't tingk of anything to tell Ton when he came into the room. What more work was there to do? He only made his son do this because he meeded busy-work. Mr. Riddle had servants to do the work the rest of the year. But everything was done, now... there was no more carpentry to be done, nothing more to fix, no help Mr. Riddle needed with his accounting job... there wasn't even any more cooking to do, now that their regular chef had returned from vacation. He could send him out to do yard work... what was he thinking? Tom, out in the YARD, in plain sight? He couldn't risk that! Neighbors might see! And besides, they had Frank Rice for stuff like that. So, what to tell that annoying boy that was his son? Mr. Riddle thought it was very clear why he disliked his son: 

·For one, Tom didn't look anything like him (even more aggravating, his son had always looked better than him, for Tom was tall, dark and handsome, and he was short and fat, with a smashed-in looking face).

·He didn't act anything like him (Tom was fun-loving and kind, but his father was serious and strict).

·Tom was smarter than Mr. Riddle, and they both knew it.

But what Mr. Riddle hated most about his son was that he was magical. He was born of his first wife, who had died in childbirth, _supposedly_. Mr. Riddle also hated his other son, James, who was of his 2nd wife. It was a good thing she had left with James before Mr. Riddle discovered she was magical as well... And he could barely stand his little daughter Jennifer, (born of his third wife) even though she was non-magical, because the truth was he had always wanted a son who could become his rightful heir, and here he was with two duds and a girl. [**A/N: Alright girls, no bitterness about this last comment, it's just the sexist way in which Mr. Riddle thinks...**] He had given up trying to marry after his third wife had died of malaria a few years back, so now he had to live here with his elderly parents and his little daughter. And, of course, that other one, Tom, who came to stay with them over the summers... of course, that was going to change next year: he had already arranged for a non-magical orphanage to take him in next summer. But for now he was stuck with the boy, so he set him to work, inside the house, of course, couldn't have the nosy neighbors noticing another human in the house. 

There was a quiet knock on the door. 

"Come in," he called. In stepped young Tom. 

"'Morning, Father, what would you like me to-"

"Shut up, I'm thinking," ordered his father. "And it's not father, it's SIR!" 

"Oh, yeah, sorry...sir." 

What needed doing? Nothing! 

"Sir, I finished fixing the old table yesterday, and there doesn't seem to be anything else-"

"I'LL tell YOU what I want done, hear?" 

"Oh, yes, sorry sir." 

"Why don't you just... go... jump off a bridge or something."

"Oh, yes,sir... _what?"_

"You heard me, now get out of my sight."

"Okay, thanks, sir!" 

Tom hurried out of his father's room, and back to his little dark one. He was free for a day! Possibly until the next week, when school started! Unless his father thought of more work for him to do, that is. Tom glared down at the little calendar next to the bed, the sudden and momentary happiness freedom had brought, gone. It was August 25th, his 16th birthday, and look where he was! His own father practically ordered him to jump off a bridge, far from wishing him a happy 16th. He lay back on his bed, grabbed a book from the rickety table next to him, and sighed. 

A few hours later, he heard the door of his "room" slam open with a **thunk**. He looked up from the novel to see his father standing there, looking absolutely furious. 

"HOW- DARE- YOU- GIVE- THIS- PHONE- NUMBER- TO- **ANYONE?!?!?!" **

"W-what do you mean, Dad? I didn't…" Had someone called? he though hopefully. 

"You know what I mean! If you didn't, then why is there a young lady on the phone down there asking for you?" 

"Who is it?" 

"How am I supposed to know? It's Elena, or something." 

"Lana!" 

"You know her?" 

"Can I talk to her?" Tom closed his eyes and held his breath, but he thought it was in vein…

Mr. Riddle sighed. "I guess you _have_ to-"

"What do you mean?" 

"She threatened me! When I said there was no one here under the name of Tom _Marvolo_ Riddle, she said knew you were there, and if I didn't give you the phone, she'd call the neighbors and tell them you were here-"

Tom tried his best to look shocked, but the real reason his hand flew up to cover his mouth was to hide his sniggers. That unmistakably sounded like Lana... she certainly was not shy. 

"Well, don't just sit there, get on the phone." 

"Uh, thanks!" He jumped off the bed and rushed past his father in the doorway for the phone. 

"Oh, and Tom?" 

He turned around. 

"Don't look so excited. You're gonna get it after this-" 

Tom continued toward the phone. He didn't doubt that- but it was worth whatever his father did to him just to have a chance to talk to Lana. He picked up the receiver, and his father stormed out of the room. 

"Hello, Lana?" Tom said. 

"Tom! Tom Tom Tom!" screamed the girl on the other side. 

"Lana!" Tom grinned. "It's so good to hear your voice."

"You too! You have no idea how hard it was to get your number-"

"How did you?"

"Looked up every Riddle in the English country!"

"You are so insane-"

"Happy Birthday!!" 

"Er, thanks. You remembered." 

"Of course." 

"I miss you."

"You too, more than you know, Tom... I can't stand this, with you locked up there-" 

"It's okay, it's not that big of a deal, you know." 

"No, Tom, it is! Have you even talked to anyone else this whole summer?" 

"Well, no-"

"Oh, yeah, everyone says hi, then."

"Who?"

"Joe, and Becca." 

"Ok, thanks. Tell them hi for me, and that I'll see them next week!" 

"Tom, what're you gonna do about Diagon Alley? You know, school supplies, etc.-"

"Oh, that's taken care of, I just told Dad that school starts on August 31st, not September 1st, so I get to leave this place early. I'll just flag down the Knight Bus, and get over to Diagon Alley." 

"Let's meet there!" 

"Okay-"

"And I'll get Joe and Becca and the others to meet us, too." 

"Thanks! Sounds good!" 

"How are you getting to King's Cross?" 

"Er..." 

"We'll drive you." 

"Who?" 

"My parents! You can come over and stay at my house that night...No, wait. I doubt my folks would like that." 

"That's okay, I'll just-"

"No, I'll call Joe. I bet you could stay with him for a night." 

"Sure, thanks!" 

"Oooh, I gotta catch you up on the gossip around here-" 

"TOOOOM! GET OFF THE PHONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" 

"Uh, Lana?"

"Yeah?"

"I gotta go." 

"Okay. I can't wait to see you!" 

"Me too. Thanks for calling..." 

"Sure. No prob. Miss you."

"You too." 

"Bye."

"Bye." Tom set the phone gently down on the receiver. _I love you,_ he thought, and sighing, he returned to his room to await his punishment. 

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**Thanks for reading this! You all rock! Now, go forth and REVIEW!!! Gotta review if you want more... :Þ**


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